Two mariners
by Quaerenspuella
Summary: A brief one-shot describing the first meeting between Portugal and Netherlands.


She had got to know him on a rainy, foggy day, after accidentally bumping onto his profound, dark green eyes which were lost in the grayish sky, seeking for the next route to follow. The stranger seemed utterly concentrated on his work, so intensively that he completely oversaw the newcomer. In spite of the stormy waves surrounding his vessel, he kept staring over, towards the horizon, self-confidently. Though ignoring his name, her heart couldn't avoid trembling in front of such beauty.

Their ships were indeed crossing the same tempestuous sea, probably after a common eager: knowledge. Exploration. Discovery. Fame. Their souls were possessed by the same journeying thirst. How come they had never encountered before? How come their paths had never collided? She was still wondering when he suddenly approached her.

_Hoi, schaatje. Wat is een vrouw hier op een schip aan het doen?_

Just a couple of words whose meaning she couldn't twig. But, oh my God!, the way he pronounced them simply enchanted her. His straight-looking attitude, his manliness, his manners caught merciless her attention. Still holding her marine maps in her right hand, she stepped closer to the foreigner, magnetizing her black eyes on his virile chest.

_Perdão, não consigo comprender a tua língua.__ Falas Latim?_

His ironic laughter awoke the temper she used to pull out in emergency cases. How could he dare teasing her for not speaking his mother language? Why was he behaving in that way, without any respect for another ocean traveler? She snorted and tried to taper her rage through counting up to ten. She was about to leave, as the boy unexpectedly blocked her by poking on her left shoulder. He grinned smartly before starting to converse impeccably in Latin.

"I didn't mean to offend you, honey. Nice to meet you anyway. I'm Netherlands."

His shiny teeth let the brunette blush. 'Bloody Hell, he's so attractive', was the only thought echoing in her mind. Attempting to reply him in a witty way, but stuck in the embarrassment, she was only able to babble a very confused sentence, even if her Latin skills were usually brilliant.

"N-Never mind… how do you do… my name's Portugal."

The Dutchman smiled to her without adding anything at first instance. On the contrary, he sat down on the wet deck with no hesitation and took out a joint from his leather bag. He began smoking, gazing at the twisted clouds above and giggling on his own every now and then. The Portuguese maid had the impression he had cut her off his view and this weird behavior left her puzzled some minutes long. At the very end, fed up with his isolation, she turned her back to him and got fond, once more, on her calculations and her tracks.

"What are you doing in here, sweetie? Shouldn't women stay home sewing?"

After hearing this statement, Portugal dropped the naval instrument she was using due to the shock. Her eyebrows shivered with anger and she couldn't stop herself pointing him astounded.

"I didn't imagine you to have such an old-fashioned opinion of things, man. From a trader, as you look like, and a world challenger, I'd have expected something more."

"Well, I spoke out of personal experience, you know. That's what my little sister does."

"Not each woman is supposed to serve men loyally, like a dog. And not each woman is talented for the same stuff, have you ever thought of this?"

"You're right; I guess it's a privilege for feminine women only. I wouldn't say it's your case."

Portugal's appearance wasn't indeed the most flourishing or sex-appealing. Her hair was somewhat dusty and uncombed, her hands traced by deep wrinkles, her eyes a little bit watery and, generally speaking, she looked as if she had just come back from a serious fight because of the numerous holes and shreds on her outfit. Nevertheless she felt totally hurt by his affirmation, so much that she stiffed her fists, which quivered with resentment, and glommed loudly.

"I won't allow a kid like you to insult me. You're talking like a wiseman, but I'm sure you don't even know where you and your crew are heading to. Loser!"

The Dutch boy chuckled amused and passed his right hand through his ash-blond hair. He slowly stood up and moved towards her. After leaning his chin on the top of her head, he caressed her neck and enlaced her, before whispering seductively into his left ear.

"Don't overreact, darling. I wasn't as stern as you believe, it was just a joke. But I admit I adore your temperament, our women don't show their emotions so easily."

"Hey, whom do you think you're chatting with? I'm no whore!"

The girl loosed herself quickly from his hug, but she rapidly noticed she effectively enjoyed being touched by that guy. Although he had treated her sarcastically and with no kindness, she did feel attracted by him. She had no clue about his roots, his past or his family, but she wished all of a sudden to become part of it.

"You know, Portugal, my commercial empire is quite broad. I'm popular in the Eastern countries."

Netherlands slid cautiously to her, trying not to waste this precious chance. He lifted her right hand up and brought it to his lips in order to kiss it softly. Then he broke again the silence for proceeding with his speech.

"I've heard of your wonderful enterprises, dear. I know your expertise is praised all over the globe. And I know you're increasing your influence spheres in the new lands, aswell."

"Which is your aim? Don't be so mysterious and tell me!"

He smiled impudently in front of her.

"If we unified our forces, if we allied, the whole planet would belong to us."

Portugal remembered the time she used to spend with her brother Spain. All the sorrow, all the humiliations, all the sacrifices she had to face floated back into her memory. Before abandoning Antonio, she had promised herself she would never fall in the same trap again. She wouldn't annihilate her essence and her strength for a man, even for the most awesome one.

"Forget it! And don't even try to corrupt me with your fake sensuality! I'm independent now. I won't throw away everything I battled for just because a nice-looking fellow's asking me to!"

Her heart was beating faster than ever; that devil really had let her firmness sway. However, she sailed off skipping his watching, hoping not to see him a second time. Netherlands sighed and submerged himself back into his work.

"You won't escape like that forever, Portugal. We are definitely going to meet again. And next time I'm not going to fail. No matter how long it might take, I'm going to persuade you. You'll be mine, sooner or later."


End file.
